


Crooked Bay Rum Is The Devil

by SnowWhiteKnight



Series: Holidays [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Brienne ships SanSan, Brienne writes fanfic?, Drunk Texting, Drunk Writing, Drunkenness, Explicit Language, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5591446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's New Year's Day and Jaime comes home to find that Brienne had herself a little party in his absence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crooked Bay Rum Is The Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SassyEggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyEggs/gifts).



> Inspired by my own drunkenness, I blame SassyEggs for giving me the original idea in the first place. I don't even know how she feels about this pairing, but this story is dedicated to her.

Jaime surveyed the mess. Well, for his usually tidy Brienne, it was a mess. For him, it would be downright pristine. There were three bottles, two empty and one mostly full, sitting on the coffee table, a single glass, and an empty pizza box. His wench had been busy last night. He found her in bed, wrapped in their comforter, snoring softly. He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her cheek. She made a happy noise, but it took a few more minutes before she woke up.

"Jaime? What are you doing here? Good morning..." she said sleepily.

"Wench, it's the middle of the afternoon. And I'm here because you asked me to come home. Which I was happy to do, of course. Father was being a right prick about continuing the family heritage and Tyrion was ready to bail as well. We took the family jet back. You ok?" He tried to smooth down a lock of hair to no avail.

 "Yeah, head kind of hurts, mostly thirsty and I need to pee." She pushed back the blanket. She was wearing his favorite band shirt and those blue and white panties he loved on her. He helped her up from the bed and watched her shuffle to the bathroom. While she was in there, he went over to the kitchen and filled the largest cup he could find with water and one of those silly straws he had bought on a whim several months ago. She was back in bed by the time he got back, but she was sitting up. "So, you came home because I asked you too? When did I do that?" She accepted the glass, silly straw and all.

"Last night. About eight p.m. where I was, around eleven here, I think." He pulled out his phone and found her message.

**Wench 8:23pm why are you not home? if you were home, we could fuck. come home. fuck me.**

Brienne frowned. "I don't remember that." Jaime chuckled.

"I kind of figured. Wench, you were drunk. You kept texting me after that. Mostly about how and where you would like me to fuck you. I'm particularly interested in the third and fifth suggestions, but I'm not sure where we can find a castle tower or if my father will be keeling over anytime soon. But, any excuse to get me out of there. I was already debating how to tell my father I was planning on leaving, and your text helped. I told him you were ill and needed me home immediately. He sends his regards, and was sorry your work kept you home. I think you're his favorite child, by the way. He sent you more gifts than the rest of us combined. He certainly likes you better than Cersei's husband."

"Robert is likeable enough, when he's sober." She was uncomfortable with being Tywin's favorite, though Jaime thought it was perfectly logical. Her straight forward nature and level head made her an asset to the Lannister family and Tywin always appreciated that.

"You also sent me several texts about which wrestlers you would and would not fuck," he said with a smirk. 

"I didn't!"

"You really wanted to see Del Rio get fucked in the butt by 'the big Russian' because they are both heels and only deserve each other. I assume you meant Rusev. Oh, and you want to have 'the sexy times' with Dolph Ziggler, because he is, and I quote, 'the only man as handsome as my sexy lion and with great hair to boot.' End quote." He laughed as she leaned down and buried her face in the comforter. 

"Oh gods, please tell me that is  _all_ I did," she pleaded, her voice muffled.

"I wish I could. Wench, you wrote a story and emailed it to me."

"W-wha? Are you sure?" she asked, blinking rapidly. He smiled and mussed her already messy hair.

"I'm sure. Got it right here." He pulled up the document she had emailed him. "You titled it 'Am I The Murderous Type', by the way."

 

 

> _Sandor asked. AM i hte murderours tyupe? I think I am. I am so asedome. No.,asesom. no. aw3some thatyway._
> 
> _Murder can be awsome. if it is of bad people. Petyr is bad. Let’s murder him. so much murder. he will hurt little burd. she is sooooooo cool. murder petyr. then she will likes us. i mean like. she will be so gratefule. i can’t spell. am i going to have a headacke in the morning? little bird is so awedome.awesome_
> 
> _if i murder bael9ish, she will fuck sandor, sandor thought. sandor is awesome. i am so fuckable, he said. even with the burns. because i has honor of sorts. not butt fucks though. that sounds painful. so much pain. fuc k her in the vagaina. vagina. she will like it. but don’t be drunk when you do it. she will probably not like that. drunk fucks are awkward. is the ruoom supposed to spin? i, the author., would not fuck sandor but we can be buddies. he is so disturbed. but i like that. i GET that. because I am disturbed too. i love batman, who is a psycho. sandor is not a psycho. but he is disturbed. he should kill anyone who threathens the little bird. she will be grateful and fuck him. fuck him so hard. because she loves him, ya know? and she should love him. he’s awesome, but so fucked up. the burns are just the tip of the iceburg. he holds so much hate. she should love him. and then he will let go of the hate. but he will still murder anyone who needs to be murdered. like petyr. he needs to be murdered so hard. with a sword to the butt. through the butt and then out his mouth. he is a liar and a stupid head. sansa should never fuck petyr. he will hurt her. and then she will cry. so much crying. but sandor will kiss it and make it better. kiss it. KISS IT. let sandor make it better. he is hurt, but you can be hurt together and be AWESOME TOGETHER. BUT DON’T DRINK TOGETHER. drinking is for grownups. well, you're both grownups, but it will hurt in the morning. let Sandor love you. He will love you so hard, but so nicely. he will put his ding dong in you and it will hurt at first, but then feel awesome. becayuse he loves you. petyr does not love you. he loves the idea of you. he will consume you and then spit you out when you are done. he is a stupid head that way. he does not understand love. not like sandor can. sandor is awesome that way. so freaking awesome. have some rum, sansa. rum is good. but not crooked bay rum. IT IS THE DEVIL. THE DEVIL!!!!!! unless you’ve been drinking already. then it is less awful. but still bad. i do not recommend it to you, sansa, a fictional character, but your not, because I know you. dornish red or is it dornish soutr? it is proabbly bad. sandor is a drunkie? don’t trust his tastes on this. but trust that he will love you forever and ever. AND EVER. and he will fuck you like you need to be fucked. I mean, make love. he will make love to you like you need it. make sure stranger isn’t in the room. that would be weird. stranger, the animal, not the god. the stranger is all around us. so is the maiden. and the crone. and the mother? father? how many is that so far? one, two, three, five? smith. that’s six. who’s seven? maiden, crone, mother, father, smith, stranger, i can’t remember the seventh one. PRAY FOR FORGIVENESS. WHO IS THE SEVENTH GOD?????? i really need to pee. lol. don’t drink rum sansa. let sandor drink the rum. but not too much, then he can’t fuck you right. and trust me, you want to be fucked right. but always let him kiss you. no matter what. kissing is nice. not as nice as fucking. but still nice. what was the idea here? something about murder? Sandor will murder everyone who is a threat. and he should. because there are so many threats to the little burd. bird? berd? spelling is overrated._
> 
> _as long as she is not a bard. but sansa would be an awesome bard. she’s got a good singing voice. and she loves stories. stories are awesome. she’s so good at the stories. she sang a pretty story for joffrey. he’s just too stupid to appreciate the wonderful stories. she sang so many pretty stories for joff, but he’s just an inbred idiot. only sandor appreciates her stories. her songs. she should sing for him more often._
> 
> _sandor is so cool, but so disturbed. sing for him little bird. sing to him and calm him. he would like that. pet him on the head. he is a good dog. just for you little bird. you can calm his rage. just hug him. he needs a hug. and a kiss. but lots of hugs. his mother died ya know. and his brother is a cunt. so is his dad. was his dad. dad was stupid. stupid scared. daddy clegane was stupid scared of gregor. gregor needed cock. he’s so gay. that’s why he’s angry. because he needs the cock. THE COCK!!!!!!!!!! Loras x Gregor. or Renly x Gregor. I don’t care. Gregor needs cock. Sandor needs love. Give him LOVE. and he will flourish. but not rum. not crooked bay rum. DO NOT GIVE HIM THAT. IT IS AWFUL. but it is also ok. if you have been drinking already. sandor does not need rum. but he does. sansa can have a little. because she is a wee bird. birds don’t need a lot of rum. Jack sparrow is a bird? he drinks a lot of rum. but not crooked bay rum. it is shit. unless you’ve been drinking already. where the hell is the coke? not the cocaine, that stuff is nasty, the coca cola. sandor would like rum and coke. sansa would love it. it’s bitter but also sweet. like sandor. sandor is bitter chocolate wrapped around a sweet chocolate center. lick him up sansa. LICK HIM UP. LET HIM LOVE YOU. and he will be good to you. and fuck you so good. or maybe you will fuck him so good. either way. fuck and make babies. and love. of course. so much love. why won’t you love him sansa?!?!?! he could be good to you. petyr won’t be good to you. he will butt fuck you. and laugh. and think of your mum. DON’T LET HIM. HE WILL THINK OF YOUR MUM AS HE BUTT FUCKS YOU. PETYR IS DEVIL. SANDOR IS ANGEL. DISGUISED AS JERK. BUT HE’S A NICE JERK. JERK HIM OFF SANSA. HE WILL LIKE IT. is the room supposed to spin?  let him spin you sansa. LET HIM SPIN YOU. you will like it. maybe not at first, but he is good for you. not like petyr. petyr is bad. awful. so awful. gregor should fuck petyr in the butts. all of the butts. yes. petyr x gregor. that will satisfy all of them. i think i drank too much rum. let’s have a little more. because sandor would drink it. and he’s awesome. so disturbed. but awesome. spelling is important. capitalization can suck it. suck sandor’s cock, capitalization!!!!! he has a big dick. so suck it. i bet gregor wants to suck it. incestous dick loving gregor. he’s jealous of sansa. so super jealous. cause she can suck sandor’s dick and it’s not a problem. gregor wants to fuck his baby brother he is such a slut. gregor. gregor is a slut. sandor is awesome. so awesome. everyone should want to fuck sandor. even jaime. jaime x sandor. disturbing, but jaime wants it. fuck him. sandor only wants little bird. and little bird wants sandor. as it should be. OTP. that means one true pairing. i think. does it? i think i need to lie down. Jaime? is that what it means? the room is spinning so much. carry me, sandor. carry me. to bed. but not to fuck me. sandor can only fuck the little bird. as it should be. so it goes. oh my god. someone is going to die. becuase vanuugut says so. is he god? so much spinning. close eyes now. bed time. bye bye._
> 
> _no not bye bye. sandor should steal the little bird. hide her away. until joff is dead. so much dead. and the dragon can’t touch her. the dog will protect his bird. wolves mate for life, ya know. ahhh wooooooooooooo! sandor is so nice. meanie butt. but so nice for such a meanie butt. he woudln’t cheat on sansa. cause he loves her. he loves her so hard. sleepy time now. love her sandor. love her until she knows only love. she has only known saddness. her family is dead. Wait, no, they live, but far away. love her sandor. love her so much. only you can do it. seriously, is the room supposed to spin this mucjh? how are you able to drink so much fucking dornish sour? it’s HARD. don’t drink crooked bay rum people. it’s sucks.drink dornish red. it sucks less. LOOOOOVOEEEEEEE  YOOOOUUUUUUUU._

"Oh, my, gods," Brienne whispered, covering her mouth when he finished reading aloud. She had sat up again sometime during the end of page one.

"At least it was only two pages. So I know who Baelish is, and I do agree with your assessment of him. Who the hell are Sansa and Sandor? And how does Petyr Baelish fit in with them?" Jaime asked. 

Her hands were covering her face, "Sansa is a friend, she owns the shop on the other side of the alley from mine. She recently started dating a guy she's been crushing on for the past year. I've been rooting for her since she told me about him. Even went to _his_ shop to scout him out. Baelish is Sansa's uncle by marriage, but he's creepy towards her. Keeps trying to more than family friendly with her."

"And 'little bird'?"

"His nickname for her, like you calling me wench," she said, before collapsing face down on the comforter again. "Oh, gods..."

"Well, I'm glad you only want to be friends with this Sandor, and do not want to fuck him. I almost feel bad for Baelish that you are advocating his demise, but it would probably make the world a better place." Jaime laughed more when Brienne attempted to punch him without looking. "But that's not all you did last night." 

She looked up at him, the blood draining from her face. "Please tell me I didn't mass email that document." 

"As far as I know, you did not," he slid her tablet towards her. "But you might want to check. No, what I am referring to is your postings on WesBook and CrowBoard. Nothing terrible," he assured her. "You wrote a lot about love, and how we should all love each other and the haters should fuck off. Oh, and you were preaching against the devil named Crooked Bay Rum."

"Oh, yeah, well it is, it tastes awful," Brienne said, scrolling through her emails.

"I know, it's just that you were so adamant about it," he cleared his throat and read from his phone again, "'Crooked Bay Rum tastes like ass, or at least what I think ass probably tastes like. But it's not so bad once you've been drinking already. We need more rum, but not that shite. It tastes like monkey balls. Sweaty, hairy, PIRATE, monkey balls. That's very bad.' I must say, wench, you get very specific about the awfulness of your liquor. You mostly repeated 'hugs, not drugs' throughout all your social media platforms, and reiterated how awful this particular rum is. Exactly how much did you drink last night?"

Brienne scrunched up her nose as she thought. Jaime wanted to lean over and kiss it but didn't want to break her concentration either. Finally she said, "I don't remember anything past the orange liqueur and cola. I think I drank a full twenty ounce glass of that."

"Well damn, wench, half the vodka and the entire bottle of rum is gone as well. And I know there was a good amount left."

"Oh, gods!" she exclaimed. 

"What is it?"

"I sent the file to Sansa as well! And she already replied!!!" Brienne squeaked and threw her tablet face down on the bed.

"Well, what did she say?" he asked, but Brienne only threw the comforter over herself and refused to come out. Jaime picked up the tablet and opened the email to read it. He chuckled and poked at her. "Wench, come out and read what your friend said already." She shook her head, making the comforter look like it was having a seizure. He kept poking her until she reached out and grabbed the tablet, bringing it under the blanket with her. Jaime waited until she peeked out from her hiding spot. 

 

 

>   
>  _To: brie@wmail.com_   
>  _From: sstark@winter.net_   
>  _Subject: RE:omg i think i drunk to much_
> 
> _Hahahahahahaha, oh gods, so… what I’m getting from this is:_  
>    
> _· Gregor is a gay slut and their dad was awful (Sandor concurs. He was mildly creeped out but was also amused by the incestuous claim)_  
>  _· Batman is psycho_  
>  _· Crooked Bay rum is not good_  
>  _· Sandor and I are your OTP_  
>  _· Capitalization can suck it  
>  · You need to pray to the  Warrior for forgiveness  
>  · I should stay away from Baelish (which Sandor and I both concur with)_
> 
> _These are some pretty valid points, I think. Well done! Might want to go easy on the drinking next time, Brie. Count me in, we can watch what the other drinks. Oh, Sandor says he'll take your advice about the fucking under very serious consideration ;) but he'll forgo the murder suggestions, and also that he looks forward to being your buddy as well._
> 
> _Your friend, Sansa_

"She's not mad," Brienne whispered. 

"Probably because she knows you mean well," Jaime assured her. She looked up at him with her big blue eyes, wide and innocent. He never could say no or tell her anything bad when she looked so open like that. "So, shall we go back to the original text you sent me?"

"Is this about fucking? Because as nice as it would be, I really don't think I'm up to it right now," she said. Jaime laughed and shook his head. 

"No, this is something you sent before you got all horny watching WWE reruns," he scrolled through her messages and found the first one from the previous evening. 

**Wench 7:12pm I miss you. Lots and lots. If you were here, we could snuggle and watch that movie you like, and ring in the new year in each other's arms. Love you, Jaime. Can't wait to see you again.**

"That is what made me want to come home sooner. As much as I love watching Robert make a fool of himself, Cersei's reaction to his antics, and Father's quiet struggle to not throw them both out, I just wanted to be here with you instead. So, what say we order something from the deli, pop in Indiana Jones, and have a do over of New Year's Eve? Minus the bad rum?"

She gave him a shy smile, "I would like that. A lot."

He kissed her lightly, but lovingly. "Happy new year, wench."

"Happy new year, Jaime."

**Author's Note:**

> Was Brienne's "fanfic" too much? I had my doubts but I also had a hard time editing it. :(


End file.
